for Guy and Lori
who left the pen,
“micro inks for fade proof lines,”
on a book of mine

You who have supplied the key
To your own apostrophe,

Those microscopic lines
Whose fade-proof drift defines

Our standing in small doses
Of apt apotheosis,

And the merely spellable
Revealed to be indelible,

Wherein the fingers’ wayward flesh
Pens ball bearings to enmesh

A celestial cast of gears in favor of
Dedicated drafts of love,

Contours traced and blazed around
Seas that are by bearings bound,

That draw their clear necessities
From the hand’s unsure geometries,

Who take their waving, wandering address
From a scribble’s SOS,

Who chart their winding human plots
Around a ballpoint’s pointless blots,

Spellbound runnings that invoke us
Into never-ending focus−

Into scrawling boundless oceans when
Authorized by a captive pen−

May these tugging lifelines bind you with
Their rolling, calligraphic myth:

The map of valor, grace, and charm,
Preserved by ink from time and harm.